


what do you think?

by kinneyb



Series: peaches & plums [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: M/M, Nipple Piercings, but like...... the build up before smut, not really smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Quentin gets a couple of new piercings. Eliot, of course, loves them.





	what do you think?

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter: queermight  
or tumblr: proofconcept

Quentin took a shaky breath and opened the door; Eliot was sitting on the bed, showing a side of him very few people saw (outside of Quentin and Margo). His hair was a mess, he was wearing nothing but a pair of baggy sweatpants, leaning back in a very ungraceful, open position. Quentin - not for the first time - reveled at the thought that Eliot felt so comfortable around _him_. It was still a shock sometimes.

Before he could appreciate the sight for too much longer, Eliot looked up and smiled softly. "Hey."

Quentin cleared his throat. "I - I have a surprise for you?" were the first words out of his mouth, hardly a greeting.

Eliot raised both eyebrows. "Oh?" he asked in that way that always made Quentin's knees go weak. (Which totally wasn't fair). He sat up straighter and patted the bed in front of him. "Do come and share with the class," he teased, eyes sparkling.

"Um." Quentin laughed, a bit sharp. "Um. Okay, but, uh, there's some - " he gestured frantically, blushing " - some stuff I should probably, like, clear up first."

Eliot's shoulder slumped a little. "Q?" he asked seriously.

"No," he squeaked, shaking his head firmly. "It's nothing bad. I'm just - it's, uh, was kind of... spur of the moment."

Eliot nodded slowly. "Okay?" he scooted closer to the end of the bed - closer to Quentin. "You can tell me, Q."

Quentin smiled sheepishly and patted his thighs a few times; a nervous habit. "I - I - I had this idea, but it was kind of just like... a joke?" he started, biting the inside of his cheek. "I probably never would've done it on my own, but Margo... she for some reason really latched onto it."

"Yeah?" Eliot smiled, small but sincere. "She has a tendency to do that, _especially_ if she thinks it's a _good_ idea."

Quentin nodded curtly. "Right, well, she thought this was genius, then." He stopped talking for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. There was no going back now, huh? The deed had been done. All that was left was showing Eliot. "I - I think you'll... like it. I think? And honestly, El, not to brag but I think I know you pretty well, but this is - "

Eliot reached out and grabbed Quentin's hands, holding them tightly. "Q, breathe," he said gently. "You said it wasn't anything bad, right?" Quentin nodded mutely. "See? So everything will be fine. Just tell me."

"I - okay," Quentin smiled, a bit shy. "But I think it'd be better if I showed you?"

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "Oh?" he said again. He released his hands. "Go on."

"No laughing?" Quentin asked as he turned away.

Eliot let out a tiny huff of air. "I swear."

"Okay," Quentin took a deep breath and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. His shirt - dark and well worn - fell to the floor. He hesitated for a second, heart thumping loudly.

Eliot didn't rush him, just touched the small of his back comfortingly.

"It's really not that big of a deal," he blurted. "I'm just - I'm nervous for some reason." He quickly turned on his heels before Eliot could say anything. Eliot took a total of four - maybe five - seconds to find the source of his anxiety.

He took a sharp breath. "Jesus fucking Christ," he said, barely a whisper.

Quentin glanced down at the gold studs protruding from his nipples, blushing. Fuck, nope, still wasn't used to it.

"Margo did this?" Eliot asked quietly as he reached out and experimentally brushed his fingertips over one of them. Quentin shivered, nodding. "Fuck," he laughed lightly.

Quentin chewed on his bottom lip. "So... you don't hate them?"

Eliot looked up at him. "Are you serious?" He grabbed Quentin by the hips and pulled him closer to stand between his open legs. "You look sexy as _fuck_, Q."

He shuddered. "They don't look... _stupid?_" he asked. He felt stupid for just asking.

Eliot leaned forward and gently kissed the center of his chest. "Hell no," he muttered. "And I can prove it." Pulling back, he grinned up at Quentin and shifted, showing off the _very_ obvious tent in his sweatpants.

"Oh." Quentin laughed sharply, covering his mouth. "Oh," he repeated lamely.

Eliot grinned wider and leaned forward again, pressing his tongue against one of the piercings. Quentin jerked, gasping.

"I think," Eliot purred lightly, "that you need to take the rest of your clothes off and get in bed."

Quentin reached up and ran his fingers through Eliot's wild, unruly curls. "Okay," he agreed softly.

"I also think," Eliot peered up at him, eyes sparkling, "that I need to thank Margo first thing in the morning."

Quentin laughed unabashedly. "Hey, it was _my_ idea," he argued weakly, already pulling his sweatpants down.

"Yes," Eliot agreed breezily, "but you never would've gone through with it on your own."

Quentin kicked his sweatpants and underwear off, pouting. He couldn't rightfully argue _that_. "Shut up and get naked, will you?"

Eliot barked out a laugh and began untying the waistband of his sweatpants. "Yes, sir," he teased, eyes sparkling.


End file.
